Exodus - Cycle One - 1001-1316 - Bo

The moon is thin in the winter sky, astonishing and bright. It’s cold. You suddenly realize that light can cut through time to kiss your eyes and form the stars. Now warmth floods into your skin. What’s this, you wonder? Yes, you remember. I can hold that pose.

Then your cell phone rings. Your friend is crying. There’s a war and people are suffering. You talk to her. The moment is gone. Your skin is freezing. You forget the stars and walk home. You’re on the road. The kids are singing. You feel as if your heart is gliding with joy, your body encased by your soul. What’s this, you wonder? Yes, you remember. I can hold that pose. Up ahead there is an accident. Soon, the cop is waving you by. You hope the kids don’t see the pieces of metal and blood on the ground. Just staying within the lines is hard and the kids are still singing but it sounds like shrieks and you snap at them. You must have silence now. You are in northeast Oregon. The mountains are set and wrapped in snow. You feel the sun and share a smile with a friend who is helping you during tragic times. What’s this, you wonder? Yes, you remember. I can hold that pose.

Then, your mother calls. If you weren’t my daughter, she says, I would have dropped you a long time ago. The mountains now feel like a used fantasy, just more impossible beauty that seems to slip through your hands.

Bo is all about possible (not impossible) beauty. It’s about holding the connection to God no matter what might or might not be happening around us.

In Bo there are 9 positive and 11 negative commandments. Two sections in Bo (13:1‐10 and 11‐16) are placed in tefillin . If you look closely, the focus is freedom. But what is freedom? Is it really a fast race from mitzrayim? Or is it a jumping of our soul, a release? Imagine. Your soul is no longer in some abstract place in your body. It’s so thick you can see it, move with it. It balances the plague of darkness that keeps people set in positions standing up or sitting down (Rashi). It’s a light so real that it is a part of you, intimately joined to your skin.

But how is this freedom created? How is it done? Well, looking at Bo, first we find a lamb. We eat it as one complete being, no bones broken. If we can’t finish, the neighbors are to eat some too. Any leftovers that morning…and morning is mentioned twice (12‐10) which makes me feel we’re dealing with more than a simple dawn…must be burned.

Think about it. This is powerful, symbolic. A whole body is to be brought into our bodies. The blood goes on the doorposts, and as the Zohar says, on our openings (a clear reference to both circumcision and to the bachar…the first of the womb). It’s so clear. It’s an inversion. We are digesting the body and placing our blood, or our divine spark, where it can be seen by all. All these years I thought my soul was in me but I was wrong.

Later, in Exodus 13:10‐16, we are reminded that freedom isn’t a finished action. The more exposure, the more protected and the more connected we are with ourselves, each other and God. But we are also more vulnerable. We have to keep freeing ourselves. We have to sanctify our first born (that opening) and avoid being slain by our forgetfulness…on a continual basis. Now, let’s look at Exodus 13:1‐10. What stands out is the idea of matzoh, unleavened bread. For seven days this is all we can even see or place in the boundaries of our home. Rashi points out that we must watch over the unleavened cakes so they won’t rise. There’s immediacy here, a focus on the moment.

Hold that pose. The time to follow a commandment is now, not later. We’re inverting ourselves in‐soul to out‐soul. We need to set this joyous radiance, know it, know kindness and compassion. If you think about it, leavened bread (chametz) is always changing. If those changes knock us off balance, we can easily lose words (of Torah) from our mouth. We can lose the memorial that keeps our eyes bound and open. We want our pose to be strong and flexible.

This is the way towards aware and immediate action…to be healed and to heal others. This is big. This is Torah. This month shall be the head month to you. It shall be the first month of the year (12:2). We must even begin to understand the movement of the moon to commemorate the freedom we’ve been given.

Once again, I’m in the mountains of northeast Oregon listening to my mother. Her words can’t go far given the reality of the light around me. Even better. The words can’t even leave her being. There’s a pause. We remember. No matter the conflict we say I love you. So, may we allow ourselves to keep doing the work towards freedom. May we honor the new moon as a reminder and commemoration. May we realize that the more exposed we are the more protected and connected. May we feel the pain of bringing our souls to the world and also the strength within. May our light heal the whole. May we hold that pose and fit with joy into God’s more than possible and beautiful heart.